knew Milly was fighting to keep her eyes open, as she kept sitting upright and then slumping backward into him. What the hell was this woman’s story? She was not timid around him, as many supposed governesses would be. She was funny, and even on brief acquaintance he knew she was intelligent. That’s not to say a governess could be neither, just rarely around him. But then in the normal course of events, he would not be carrying a governess between his thighs.

She would have her hands full with the Wimplestow family. They were good people, just a little unorthodox, and their table manners made Joseph queasy. Yet, there was little doubt that Miss Wimplestow needed assistance if she was to enter society... a great deal of assistance, he thought, remembering when last they had met, she had been covered in mud after spending time with her beloved pigs in their sty.

He felt the moment Milly gave up the battle and succumbed to sleep. Her body softened against his, suddenly growing heavy as her muscles relaxed. Looking around her, he checked Mugwort was secured and in no danger of hitting the ground. Of course, a bump or two could surely only enhance such a challenged creature, but still Joseph did not like to see anyone hurting, even ugly little dogs. She was tucked securely in her mistress’s arms and in no danger of falling from them. Joseph then slipped her large bag from her wrist and pulled the ties over his shoulder, so it hung at his side.

The miles passed slowly, as he was reduced to a walk while Milly slept, not that he minded particularly. Holding a woman other than a family member while she slept in his arms when they had shared no intimacies was something he had never thought about, or indeed experienced, and why should he? It simply wasn’t something that had cropped up in his life. However, now he had firsthand experience, and Joseph had to say it was not an unpleasant one.

His thoughts returned briefly to the woman he had once believed would be his wife. The woman he had loved desperately, and who by now, God willing, would have given him children. He’d wanted to hold her in his arms many times, but society had allowed him to do so only when they danced, or shared a brief passionate kiss when they had managed time away from prying eyes.

Four years ago, she had broken their betrothal, and he had received no word of her since. Pushing aside the anger that came with thoughts of Millicent Lawrence, he focused on the woman in his lap.

He would likely never see her again, and had to admit that had been freeing. Speaking with her, he had been unguarded, as if for this one night he was just a man, and she a woman, and there lay no barriers between them. A strange occurrence, Joseph had to admit, but again, he had to also admit to enjoying it.

Milly had her legs sideways, but had kept her body facing forward; now, however, in slumber she was seeking comfort and warmth. Very soon her cheek was resting on his chest, the brim of her large bonnet connecting with Joseph’s chin. She made a soft breathy noise as she breathed out; the sound was ridiculously sweet. Pushing the brim back slightly, he looked down at her, attempting to get his first real impression of the woman. Her glasses were pushed up on one side, so he removed those as well and tucked them into the pocket of her jacket, and it was as his eyes rested on the long sweep of her lashes that he knew who he held.

Lifting his eyes to the road ahead, Joseph grappled with the knowledge that Lady Millicent Lawrence was in his arms again. She had ruthlessly broken his heart, and then fled London with her true love, or so she had led him to believe. She had left behind an aunt who loved her, a father incapable of the emotion, and the society he had once believed she had loved.

Sucking in a cold breath of air, he looked down at her once more.

He studied the sharp jut of her cheekbones, searching for the lush young woman he had wanted to marry. She was there in the soft pale skin, lovely mouth, and beneath that bonnet, her hair would be the color of polished gold.

“Where have you been?” he whispered. The anger he’d believed had left him rose to the surface, so fierce it nearly choked him. She murmured as his arms tightened, so he released her. He was not ready to face her yet.

Her actions had shaken the foundations of his life, a life that, until she had left him, had followed its expected path.

“I liked the idea of one day becoming a countess. Alas, your father is a healthy man, and shows every sign of living for many more years,” she had said to him that fateful day she disappeared with her lover.

“If only you had waited, your wish would have come true,” he whispered.

Three weeks after her desertion, his father had unexpectedly died, ripping him adrift completely. He’d pushed Millicent from his head, and concentrated on his grieving family. He’d thought her gone, never to cross his path again. It seemed fate had other ideas.

Following the small rounded tip of her nose, he came to her lips. The bow of her upper lip was parted slightly in slumber. He remembered how they felt under his. Lifting a hand, he traced his middle finger over the outline; she wrinkled one delicate brow, but didn’t wake, so he did it again. Then cursed himself for being a fool. He shouldn’t feel this profound relief at knowing she lived. She was nothing to him now. Nothing and no one, only the woman who had betrayed him with another. Joseph could never forgive her for the hell she had plunged him into.

He had ignored the niggle of doubt that had crept into his head four months ago, doubt put there by the arrival of papers on his doorstep from her father. He had told the deliverer that he would not see Lady Millicent again, nor ever wished to. But the man had insisted he take them, and so he had. Joseph remembered clearly the words written on the note he had opened. Find it in your heart to forgive my daughter. Those eight words had caused him to think of her again, and wonder if she had really not loved him after all. Now he had found her cold and alone, looking nothing like the lady who had left him, which increased the niggle tenfold.

Greyton appeared before them as Joseph walked Monty up the last rise and into the courtyard, where he eased them to a halt. He felt a tug of pleasure as he always did when he came home, but his pleasure was tarnished by the woman he held. He’d tamped down his anger to a slow simmer over the miles, but it was still there. He had many questions for her, the main one being, where was the man she had left him for? For now, he would not let her know he had guessed her identity, because if he did, he believed she would run again, and he did not yet know what he wanted to do about her, if anything. He had something to tell her, something that he should tell her now. But Joseph needed time, and only when he was ready would he impart the knowledge that sat heavy on his shoulders.

“Oh, I seem to have slept the entire journey, my lord. I-I’m terribly sorry.”

Milly roused in his arms and sat up. He steadied her as she quickly turned from him to look at the house.

“Your glasses are in your coat pocket.” Not that you need them.

She pulled them out and placed them on her nose.

“Why are we here, my lord? I-I thought we were going to the village of Stonleigh?”

“This is my home. It’s cold and late. The morning will be here soon enough to get you to the stage.”

Joseph sat quietly as she studied the front of Greyton. The grey walls had darkened with age, and rose three stories above them. It had been built hundreds of years ago by his ancestors, and had seen many changes, but still stood proud today. The sturdy stone facade could be seen for miles, and was a landmark for many. Joseph knew each corner and room intimately. He, his brothers, and his sister had run over every piece of land, and ridden to all corners of the estate. This was home, the place he had wanted Millicent to be mistress of.

“No.” Her head shook from side to side. “I-I cannot stay here.”

Swallowing back the bitter thoughts, he instead said, “Too late, we are here. Now we shall eat, and then I’m sure you would like to spend the rest of the night in a comfortable bed.” Lifting her off his thighs, Joseph placed her between his legs and then swung himself out of the saddle to the ground. Lowering her sack, he then held out his hands.

“Give me the dog, Milly.”

Taking the squirming bundle of ugliness, he lowered it to her feet, where it promptly put its nose to the ground and headed for the grass.

“Now you.” Placing his hands on Milly’s waist, Joseph refused to acknowledge the spark of awareness he felt as her hands settled on his shoulders and she allowed him to lift her down.

“If you will point me to the road that the stage will travel down, my lord, I-I shall be on my way.”

“Enough, Milly. You’re tired and hungry. Sleep, then I will personally take you to Spindle in the morning.” Releasing her, he then picked up her sack, took her arm, and urged her toward the steps.

“Your horse, my lord?”

“Will make its way to the stables, where my stable hand will take care of it.”

Milly stopped to watch as Monty did just that; at a trot he headed round the side of the house and disappeared.

“Please let me beg your forgiveness once more, my lord. It was rude to have slept as I did.”

“For two hours,” Joseph said. “And yes, it was, but then I would rather that than listen to chatter.”

“I-I do not chatter!”

“No, you slept,” he added, pushing aside his anger. She’d know something was wrong if he continued to speak in a cold, clipped tone.

“And I have apologized for that. But you could have woken me.”

He didn’t reply. He’d spent that time looking at her and battling his emotions. For now he would not betray his knowledge. He needed to sleep on what he had learned. Stepping up to the front door, he rapped the knocker loudly.

“But you will wake your servants, Lord Ellsworth!”

“I have done so before, and as the house is locked, there is no other course open to me,” he said, ignoring the twinge of guilt at her words.

“B-but it is not right. They need their sleep.”

“As do I, and as I pay their wages, I’m sure they will not be too put out.”

She made a small tsking sound that suggested she was displeased, but he cared not. What he cared for at that moment, was to get away from this woman.

The door opened several long minutes later, and his butler appeared, pulling on his jacket, followed by his two dogs. Bending, Joseph scratched behind long, shaggy ears and murmured a greeting to them both.

“Good morning, Bailey. Forgive the time, and my intrusion on your sleep, but I have arrived home earlier than planned.”

“No intrusion at all, Lord Ellsworth.” His butler bowed and smothered a yawn at the same time.

“Now these, Milly, are real dogs,” he said, taking her arm. “Virgil, and Horace, are skilled at hunting.”

“You named your dogs after Roman poets?”

“I did.”

“They succeed because they think they can.”

“A governess who quotes Virgil, how interesting,” Joseph mocked, remembering Millicent’s love of the poet.

“I must be able to help those I serve.”

“How commendable.” He nearly choked on the platitude.

“I picked up a stray on my journey, Bailey,” he said to his butler. “Please prepare a tray of food and a bed for Miss Higglesworth, and perhaps some washing water. I would not want to inconvenience you with a bath at such an hour.”

“I have no need of a bed or food, my lord. The stables will do, or lead me to the servants’ quarters.”

Placing a hand on her back, he urged her through the doorway with a firm hand.

“My servants will not be rising for some time, or my stable hands. Therefore, one of the dozen empty beds here will have to suffice, Milly.”

“I could simply leave,” she said quickly. “I have no need of sleep.”

Moving to her side, he saw the yawn she was struggling to hide. It nearly displaced her jaw.

“You could try, but then the gentleman in me would be forced to follow you and bring you back, and as my patience and humor are sorely tested, I would not advise it.”

“But I have no wish to impose.”

Her wish to leave him again stemmed from fear of exposure. Joseph knew that, but cared little about it. She was not going anywhere this time, until he was ready for her to do so.

“Enough, Milly, I beg of you. You will sleep where you are put, or stare at the ceiling, I care neither way, but please do not say another word. Now follow Bailey, who will get you settled.”

When Joseph used that particular tone, it was not often anyone questioned him, however Milly opened her mouth to do just that. Mugwort chose that moment to reappear, trotting in through the front door as if she owned the place, with Horace and Virgil on her heels.

“It would not be fair on your little creature’s legs to have to walk so far again this night.”

She wavered and then capitulated.

“I thank you for all you have done for me this night, my lord. And if I rise before you, I shall be on my way, therefore this will be goodbye.”

“You won’t, as I have business in Spindle, and will see you to the Wimplestows personally.” If he decided to keep an eye on her now, her position at the Wimplestows would provide him with that opportunity. If not, she would be safe with that family. Not that he cared about that either.

“As you wish, my lord. Please allow me to thank you for your kindness this night. I would have been walking for some time had you not appeared when you did.”

“Very nicely said, even if it was through gritted teeth.”

She did not speak again, instead slipping into a curtsy then following Bailey to the stairs, Mugwort at her heels. He watched his ex-fiancée until she disappeared, hardly believing she was here where once he had longed for her to be.

 

“Please make sure Miss Higglesworth does not leave this property before I rise,” Bailey.”

Joseph was sitting in the large chair before the fire in his bedroom. He had washed and was now wrapped in his robe. His toes were tingling as they thawed out, and he was finally warm and comfortable.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Watch her, Bailey. I have no doubt she will attempt to sneak out if the chance presents itself, and I would be displeased were she to do so.”

His butler did not blink at the request, as any good butler should not.

“I will set Colin the task, my lord. He can dust the walls and paintings in the hall, thereby detecting if she attempts to leaves.”

“Would a maid not be a better prospect for dusting walls?”

“Colin is the soul of discretion, my lord.”

“Perfect. I’m sure my footman will enjoy dusting the walls in that case.” Picking up the steaming cup of warmed milk with brandy, Joseph took a deep swallow, enjoying the heat as it burned down his throat.

“I apologize for waking you, Bailey.”

The surprise on his butler’s face made Joseph realize he had not apologized for that inconvenience before today.

“No apology needed, my lord.”

“And is everything in place for the arrival of my brothers?”

His cook made the best fruit cake in England. Taking a large bite, he tasted currents and cinnamon.

“Well as to that, my lord, we do have a slight problem.”

Bailey was new to his employ, his last butler having retired to a nice little cottage Joseph had purchased for him. This man was ruthlessly efficient, and ran Greyton with military precision, so when he said there was a slight problem, it was actually a bloody gargantuan one.

“The housekeeper, Mrs. Honey, fell down the stairs, my lord, yesterday.”

“Dear God, is she all right?”

“She has had her ankle set, my lord, by Dr. Bernard. However, she is of course bedridden, with many bruises and an inability to move.”

Joseph could see how that was a problem. “And suddenly we are about to be descended upon by my unruly family, with no housekeeper to run things.”

“Two extra gentlemen should not be taxing, my lord.”

Bailey was not old, in fact he was about Joseph’s age. However, he had won over the staff with his steady demeanor and obvious organizational skills. He had thick black hair, piercing gray eyes, and a small, wiry body. He had more the look of a scholar than a butler.

“I have put word about in the village and surrounding areas, my lord. I have also sent word to London to the agency to send someone with expediency, and we should receive a replacement any day.”

“Is there no one within the staff to cover the position, Bailey?” Joseph took another sip of his milk. Had Millicent not left him, she would have dealt with this.

“Mrs. Puddle often helps out, my lord, but she is away visiting her daughter.”

“Is that really her name?”

Bailey unbent enough to offer a small smile.

“Indeed it is, my lord.”

“Well, keep me apprised of matters.”

“I will, and good night, my lord.”

“Good night, Bailey.”

When the door had closed, Joseph finished his supper in silence, and then took off his robe and slipped between the sheets. Lying in the dark, staring at the fire, he wondered again where Millicent Lawrence had been since last he’d seen her that day in the cemetery. What journey had she taken to end up on that road this morning?

That she vastly differed from the young society miss he had pledged his love to was obvious. Life had played its hand in changing her, as it had him. Life and circumstance, and shallow bastard that he was, the thought that rose above all others, was how she had walked away from him.

What did her father beg her forgiveness for?

He would have no answer to this question tonight, so Joseph tried to push the thoughts aside. Tomorrow he would need to be alert and composed when he saw Lady Millicent Lawrence once more. Not an easy task when faced with the woman who had broken his heart.